


cotton candy skies

by mooneaters (decompose)



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 16:35:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5382350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decompose/pseuds/mooneaters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But in the morning, when Piper's still snoring away and the sun is just barely creeping over the horizon, she's Blue, just Blue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cotton candy skies

Piper is not a morning person. Never has been, between long nights spent editing articles until Nat finds her in the dark with her head on her desk, and longer nights spent curled up in the corner of their small house listening to the distant booming of gunfire on the wasteland.

Even without the ever-looming task of working, surviving, and working some more, she finds it hard to say that she enjoys getting up early. Though, that might be an understatement, considering the amount of times her girlfriend has had to literally drag her out of bed.

Oh, her girlfriend. Sylvia likes getting up early—loves it, even. Piper doesn't quite understand _why_ , because to her, all of their peaceful days spent in Sanctuary without the threat of anything immediately trying to kill them should be taken advantage of. She's voiced her complaint before, but all she got was a light laugh and a hand gently running through her hair that definitely did _not_ make her blush redder than a tato plant.

It's that thought in particular that makes Piper suppose she already is taking advantage of their time together. Not in a bad way, though, because Sylvia's sweeter than Piper could ever imagine, and if something were wrong between them she'd be the first to speak up. Sure, the woman still wears her wedding ring and always sleeps in the same dilapidated room that apparently was hers pre-war—but Piper doesn't comment on it, because she's seen all of the things the woman can be.

She was one of the first to see Sylvia fresh out of the vault, when she stumbled into Diamond City confused, afraid, and so much else. She was the first to see Sylvia for what she really was—a fragile heart in a strange, unforgiving world. Of course, Piper doesn't mean to brag, but it's hard not to feel somewhat special when she knows that all most other people saw was a privileged snob.

She feels special that she still gets to see that original side of her. After months spent travelling together, Piper's seen the woman be many things: general, vault dweller, leader, mother. But in the morning, when Piper's still snoring away and the sun is just barely creeping over the horizon, she's Blue, just Blue. Blue, or Sylvia, because Piper likes the way the woman's name curls over her tongue like it curls over the pages of her journal when she writes it, always surrounded by hearts and anything else she can think of that's pretty enough.

Because—despite the thought being a bit corny even for her own taste, Sylvia is the prettiest thing she can think of. When she gets up in the morning to perform whatever mundane ritual she has, she leaves behind the faintest scent of something sweet, like a freshly opened Nuka Cola but without the sting of the carbonated bubbles.

When Piper finally does get up, she's always humming underneath her breath in the kitchen or sitting on the sofa they fixed up together. Piper wonders if she even realizes what she's doing, but she's never commented on that either, because she's scared if she does Sylvia will become self conscious and quit.

They don't say much at first, because Sylvia isn't a woman of many words and Piper's all right with that. She's not a morning person, oh no, and she doesn't like it when people try to hound her with information when her brain's still trying to catch up. When she does speak, Sylvia always laughs, gently and in a way that makes Piper's face heat up in the most pleasant of ways.

Their kisses are slow and... domestic, like something out of a book. Piper's kissed people before, and been in enough relationships that she has experience (though Nat would like to say otherwise), but she's never had anything so simply sweet and affectionate. Sylvia doesn't expect miracles from her, doesn't expect explosions and stars and any other term Piper can think of that would describe the things people have wanted from her before.

She's not looked at like a concept, she thinks. And Piper loves Sylvia for that, loves the way the woman's lips quirk pleasantly when she says something thoughtless and sappy before she can stop herself. She loves the way the woman's lips taste like the sweet scent she leaves on the pillow in the morning, and loves the way her hair feels underneath Piper's fingers when she runs her hand through the soft locks.

Sylvia could be covered in the thickest layers of blood and dirt and still look pretty, and hell, she has. Piper has seen her at her worst moments, has seen the grit of her teeth as she stared down her family's destroyer and seen the look of pure anguish on her face as she stumbled from the memories of witnessing it all over again, but it's not just the woman's appearance that makes her so attractive.

Sure, she's easy on the eyes all right, but the first thing Piper thinks she fell in love with is the woman's heart. Again, a bit corny, but Piper knows just as well as anyone that the wasteland is an unforgiving place, especially to someone who stumbled into it with no experience, no loved ones to help guide her way.

It must have been really lonely, Piper thinks, and it's a really sad thought.

But from the start, Sylvia jumped to help anyone she could, putting her life on the line for people who's names she didn't even know. She still does every day, when Piper finally wanders out into their shared living room and wakes up enough to join her on whatever task she has planned for the afternoon.

There have been many times Piper has wondered why compassion is hard to find in the wasteland, times like when she was the one to hide her father's dead body from her little sister's view, times like when she found a gun to her head or times like when she saw innocent bodies fall in the dust.

There are many times when Piper still wonders that, but now when she thinks of compassion she generally thinks of quiet laughter and a faint, sweet scent of something she can't quite name. She thinks of soft hair and soft skin, too gentle for the grime and blood of the world around them and yet still strong enough to lead them all.

Sylvia is soft, but isn't foolish. Sylvia is general, vault dweller, leader, mother.

But for Piper, before she steps outside and begins whatever work she has, she's Blue. And Piper, though not a morning person, is fine enough with getting up early if it means seeing that smile.

**Author's Note:**

> piper wright really needs coffee


End file.
